


i want to see you in the summer

by porphirogene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, authorial intent: they're in love, but could be interpreted as intimate friendship, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 15:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porphirogene/pseuds/porphirogene
Summary: Flowery dresses, scraped knees, pine trees, singing birds, dry brown grass, Luna Lovegood. Ginny Weasley associates summer with many things.





	i want to see you in the summer

**Author's Note:**

> warning in advance that this is some cheesy ass shit, summer makes me sentimental and nostalgic.

Ginny Weasley associated summer with many things: the flowery dresses her mother made her wear. (Angering said mother by getting grass stains on aforementioned flowery dresses while passionately playing Quidditch matches with her brothers after dinner.) The feeling of dry brown grass tickling her feet, the smell of barbecue. The quiet moments that seemed like they could stretch out into eternity, when the whole family was inside the house and she was left alone with the outside world, with the clouds and the breeze and the birds. 

But the thing that summer reminded Ginny of most stood out on that basic list of feelings and smells that reminded nearly everyone of the warmth and security of summers spent playing in the backyard of their childhood home. What reminded her even more of summer than scraped knees and her mother’s strawberry cakes was a mysterious girl with blond hair who told simultaneously the most incomprehensible and fantastical stories about constellations and magical creatures Ginny had ever heard. This mysterious girl who came to her house once a year on her father’s birthday and then disappeared completely, only to visit her again the year thereafter. 

All summer Ginny would look forward to that one day she got to spend with the mysterious girl. She’d look forward to all the adventures they’d go on, exploring the fields around The Burrow. Ginny saw those fields every single day of the year, but when she was with the girl, they seemed like another place altogether. The hills would be mountains, the home of Tikbalangs and Norwegian Ridgebacks. When she was with the girl, every blade of grass had a name. 

Then there came the summer when Ginny was eight years old, and her father’s birthday came and went, and the girl did not visit. Ginny had sat in the frontyard hours at an end, the sun had set and the moon had come out, but the girl had not. She didn’t ask her parents about the girl with the blonde hair and mystical stories, who she was or why she stopped coming around. She didn’t ask for the same reason her mother never told anyone the ingredients of her Christmas pie: the mystery of it made it even better. 

Ginny liked to think that she had been the only one able to see the girl. She was, to Ginny, like a fairy of some sort, with her long hair and pale skin and grey eyes and fluttery dresses, a fairy that only she could see and hear. She knew it was silly, she knew that the girl was a human with a home and a name and parents and maybe siblings, just like her. Yet she couldn’t get rid of a lingering feeling that the girl was different from anyone she’d ever met and anyone she would ever come to meet in her life.

It was not until she went to Hogwarts, that she saw the girl again. When she had seen the girl in the Hogwarts express, sitting alone in a coupé, head buried in a book, Ginny had felt something twist in her stomach. A feeling like the moment she found herself in was simultaneously surprising and inevitable. And then the girl had looked up from her book, and her eyes met Ginny’s, and the girl had smiled at her, had recognized her, and Ginny had felt momentous. 

During the years at Hogwarts that followed, Ginny learned the girl’s name was Luna. She learned about Luna’s parents, her mother’s death and her father’s oddities. And likewise, Luna learned about Ginny’s frustrations and ambitions and doubts. But it was still the exploring that they had done when they were little, that they enjoyed to do most. They explored the grounds of Hogwarts, could spent hours laying in the grass side by side, cloud gazing, utterly at peace, caught up in their own thoughts, together. All the rest could wait. 

They never became friends. What they shared was not anything like friendship. They did not grow closer, it was not a process. It was a sort of state of being. What they shared was something neither of them ever found the words for. Kindred souls, is as close as they ever got to finding the right words, but they did not quite fit. During her years at Hogwarts, Ginny felt Luna’s constant presence wherever she went, even though they did not spent too much time together. Her closeness to Luna was an axiom to Ginny. Perhaps that meant she took it for granted, but it didn’t mean she cherished it any less. 

Circumstances changed after the war, they were meant to. Ginny and Luna lost touch. Luna traveled, Ginny didn’t. Their loss of touch felt as natural as their intimacy. They saw each other again, every once in a while, from the other side of a room during funerals, during weddings. Their eyes would meet, and recognition would show in their eyes, and they would always smile, but they never spoke again. Luna once again became the mystery that she had been during their childhood. But Ginny still found her in the summer breeze. 

**Author's Note:**

> please someone teach me how to write so i can express all these feelings i have properly  
> [come talk to me about these losers and nostalgia on tumblr](https://ofofwilde.tumblr.com/)  
> the title is from a [lovely poem by savannah brown](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApF2C0YTZVI)


End file.
